September 11, 2001

A silver slice

a litany of blood

the rubble of severed futures

hard to hear what is holy

through jackhammer sirens of greed

inflamed testosterone

that werewolf lust of power

forgive us God for

we were meant to build

you and for each of us

a future worth living

we mourn instead

the beauty we have lost

the purposeful and smiling names

of loss like prayer beads

nodes on our DNA together with

the shreds of plasma

that fiercely believed

in a hero’s reception with Allah 

we turn our eyes with hope

with shame to celebrate again

the sacred trust of life